Page 37 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Wake up.

Fiandrial.

Wake up.

Consciousness returned to me in fragments, like trying to piece together a shattered mirror. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, weighted. Even my eyelids refused to cooperate, leaving me trapped in a darkness that pulsed with each sluggish heartbeat.

Voices drifted through the haze—distant at first, then clearer. The sound of boots against stone. Whimpers from somewhere nearby. My mind struggled to make sense of anything beyond the fog that seemed to fill my skull.

When I finally managed to force my eyes open, the world refused to come into focus. Blurred shapes swam above me—fabric hanging in sweeps. As my vision cleared, details emerged with sickening clarity. The bed frame beneath me felt wrong—too soft, too luxurious—with posts carved into twisted shapes that seemed to writhe in my peripheral vision.

I tried to move, to turn my head, but my body wouldn't respond. It was like being trapped underwater, every signal from my brain dying before it could reach its destination.

Blurs moved through my field of vision—men in gray uniforms pacing between rows of smaller beds that lined the walls. More whimpers drew my attention further to find other Kalfar forms laying motionless beneath fine linens. A scream caught in my throat as I begged my body to cooperate.

After seconds of straining my muscles so hard that tears formed in my eyes, my head lulled to the right. And my heart seized in my chest.

Valkan sat beside me, those dead eyes fixed on my face with an intensity that made bile rise in my throat.

I tried to reach for my web, for my shadows, for anything that might help me fight. But the drug held everything just out of reach, leaving me trapped in a body that wouldn't respond.

“Hello again.” His lips curved into the most terrifying of smiles.

Terror shot through me at that voice—silky and wrong—as my drugged mind finally registered where I was. Who I was with. Oh Esprithe. Oh no. No. No. No.

I tried to scream but my mouth wouldn't work, wouldn't move, wouldn't do anything but let out a pathetic whimper that made Valkan's eyes flash with pleasure. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought they might crack. I couldn't move. I couldn't fucking move.

"I must admit," he leaned in, so close I could feel his cold breath against my skin, "I was beginning to worry I'd given you too much."

He straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his perfectly tailored jacket. "But now that you're awake, we can have a proper conversation about the future." His milky eyes gleamed as he began to pace. "You see, there's something poetic about having a Duskbound here to witness what's coming. One of their precious chosen ones, watching as I tear down everything they've built."

He stopped, cocking his head to the side at an unnatural angle. "Tell me, little Duskbound, do they teach you the true history of our realm? Or just the convenient version the crown wants you to believe?"

My heart thundered against my ribs as he turned back to me, that cruel smile never leaving his lips.

"Centuries ago, the Syrndore line ruled Umbrathia. We were kings before your precious Valtyrs ever dreamed of wearing the crown." His voice carried centuries of inherited bitterness. "But they claimed the Void had chosen them, that only their bloodline could truly understand its power. And the realm, desperate for any sign of divine right, believed them. Three generations of my family were massacred, leaving only a child behind to rebuild our great line as they sat atop our throne and called themselves monarchs."

I tried to turn my head, to look away from those dead eyes, but my muscles wouldn't respond. The paralytic left me trapped, forced to watch as he continued his measured steps around the room.

"For generations, we waited. Played their game. Smiled at court while they squandered their power." His laugh was hollow. "And now look what they've become—the Valtyr's precious realm withers while the Queen remains hidden. While her sycophants cling to outdated traditions. At least I had the courage to take what was needed when the drought came.

"For generations, my family served faithfully in their court, all while remembering what was stolen from us." He ran a finger along the edge of a nearby table. "We watched as they grew complacent, soft. And now?" His milky eyes flashed. "Now their precious Queen sits in her tower while her people starve. While her realm dies."

A fresh wave of terror washed over me as his pacing brought him closer. My lips wouldn’t move, but inside, I was screaming.

"The Skalvindrs will be the first to fall," he said, his tone shifting to something almost gleeful. "How quickly they changed allegiance when the drought worsened. One day bowing to the crown, the next supporting my innovation." His lip curled. "Such spineless creatures don't deserve their titles. I think I'll start with the children. Make the parents watch as I drain them, one by one. Show them the true cost of political games."

Bile rose in my throat. I wanted to vomit, to scream, to do anything but lie here listening to this monster's plans.

"And after that?" He spread his arms wide. "The other houses will fall in line. Those who don't... well, I have plans for their daughters. Strategic marriages to my most loyal followers. Nothing bonds men like sharing the same sins." His smile turned vicious. "Though I doubt many will survive the wedding nights."

My web strained against whatever was blocking it, desperate to reach out, to fight back, to do something. But there was only silence along my spine.

"As for Sídhe..." He leaned closer, his cold breath ghosting across my face. "I have something special planned for them. Your Guard won't expect an army that doesn't need to eat, doesn't need to rest. Imagine their faces when they realize their precious arcanite towers won't save them. When they see their own people turned into fuel."

Tears burned in my eyes as I pictured Raine, Briar, all of them facing an endless tide of Damphyres. The horrors they would witness before the end.

"I'll march their bloodless corpses through Ravenfell's streets in celebration." His voice dropped lower, savoring each word. "Stack their heads on pikes outside the palace. A reminder of who truly delivered salvation to Umbrathia."

Please , I tried to beg, but only a whimper escaped.

"Which brings me to your commander." Something shifted in his expression, turning darker, hungrier. "Would you like to know what's happening to him right now? In my dungeons?"

No. No. Please no.

"He’s quite resilient," Valkan mused, examining his nails. "Most would have broken by now. But him? He just keeps asking about you. Even as my guards strip the shadows from his flesh."

My heart splintered at his words. Tears rolled freely down my cheeks now, and Valkan's eyes lit up at the sight.

"You see, that's the beauty of it. The torture of a vessel. When they run out of that delicious darkness you so lovingly provide, they're all skin and bones once more." He traced a finger through my tears. "And bones can be broken…" He closed his eyes as if savoring a fine wine. "The screams are exquisite."

The room spun as nausea clawed at my throat. I wanted to retch, to cry out, to beg him to stop.

"Soon, his mind will begin to fray. That's my favorite part. When they start hallucinating, calling out names, pleading with ghosts." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I wonder what secrets he'll reveal in those final moments?"

Stop. Please stop.

"Of course, that's assuming my men don't cut too deep." Valkan's eyes glittered. "My guards can be quite creative with their tools."

Rage burned through my paralyzed limbs, useless and devastating. But beneath the fury, guilt crashed over me like a wave, threatening to drown what little strength I had left. This was my fault. All of it. My arrogance in thinking I could enter this territory without conflict. My stupidity in flying to Draxon despite Aether's warnings. My weakness in getting captured so easily .

Aether had tried to stop me. Had begged me to find another way. But I wouldn't listen. Couldn't listen. And now he was paying the price for my stupidity. Being tortured in some lightless dungeon while I lay here, useless, unable to even scream.

The memory of his golden eyes flashed through my mind—how they'd looked when he'd made the decision to come with me. The way his warmth surrounded me in that cave. And this was how I repaid him. By leading him straight into Valkan's trap. By being the reason he might die in agony, alone in the dark.

I'm sorry , I tried to whisper, though my lips wouldn't move. I'm so sorry .

"But enough about him," Valkan cut through my thoughts, "I'd rather focus my full attention on you, lovely." His cold fingers traced my jaw.

Something inside me cracked at his words. My focus exploded outward in desperate, silent waves, but found nothing to grasp onto.

He inhaled deeply at my neck, making a sound that sent violent shudders through me. "Now that we’re so close…” He trailed off, running his hand along my side. “I can smell how potent you are. How much essence flows through these veins."

My mind screamed at my body to move, to fight, to do anything. But I was trapped, forced to lie there as his fingers moved to my cheek.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." His voice lowered with need. "Since that first night in Stravene, when I caught your scent. The power in you... it's pure. Untainted." His eyes seemed to devour me.

A knife appeared in his hand and my mind exploded with panic. No. Please no. This couldn't be happening. I had to wake up. Had to get away. Had to?—

The blade pressed against my throat and a sob caught in my chest. Tears leaked from my eyes as he leaned closer, his face twisting into something grotesque.

"We could have been magnificent together," he breathed against my skin, and I fought the urge to vomit. "A true Duskbound and a Damphyre king. We could have restored Umbrathia to glory." His voice turned vicious. "Now you'll serve a different purpose." His free hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. "You'll be my own personal wellspring. My infinite source of essence. The tool I needed to conquer both realms."

He inhaled again, longer this time, like he was savoring a fine wine. "Though I must confess, it will be... difficult to show restraint—to not drain you completely each time. But that would be wasteful, wouldn't it? When I can keep you like this, suspended between awareness and oblivion, for as long as I desire."

The knife bit deeper and I felt warmth trickle down my neck. My mind shattered as his mouth sealed over the cut. The sound he made was obscene—pleasure and hunger mixed into something monstrous as he drank deeply, each pull of his lips sending waves of weakness through me. I could feel my essence draining, could feel him stealing pieces of me.

Seconds stretched into an eternity. My consciousness flickered as he fed, darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. Just when I thought I might pass out, he wrenched away with a gasp, blood staining his lips and chin. His milky eyes had gone wild.

"Oh," he moaned, running his tongue over bloodied teeth. "You're even more divine than I imagined. So much power. So much life ." His fingers dug into my shoulders as he shuddered with pleasure. "Can you feel it? How your essence sings in my veins?"

I wanted to scream, to fight, to die—anything but endure the way he looked at me now, like I was something to be consumed. To be devoured. But I couldn't even turn my head away as he leaned in again, tongue tracing the wound he'd made .

"Your blood might save us all," he whispered against my throat. "Perhaps we should open you up, spill all of you onto the land itself, see if we can't restore the entire realm with what flows through these veins." His hand slid down to rest over my heart. "That’s what you want, isn’t it, my darling? To be the salvation of Umbrathia?"

"My brothers and sisters," he called out suddenly, his voice trembling with the most horrifying form of excitement. "Come taste her."

Gray uniforms moved toward the bed, knives glinting in their hands, their milky eyes all fixed on me with that same terrible hunger. My mind broke further as they surrounded me, blades catching the light. No. Please no. I thrashed internally against the paralysis, but my body betrayed me, refusing to respond as they descended.

Sharp pricks of pain bloomed across my arms, my shoulders, my wrists my ankles. Each new wound followed by the press of cold lips, the grotesque sounds of feeding. My essence was being pulled in too many directions, drawn out of me like poison from a wound. The room began to spin.

Valkan's laughter drifted somewhere above me. "Careful. We mustn't drain her completely. Not yet." His bloodied fingers traced my cheek. "She's far too precious for that."

The last thing I saw before consciousness fled was his face hovering above mine, those dead eyes gleaming with triumph as he whispered, "Welcome to your new life."

Time lost all meaning. I drifted between darkness and horror, never fully gone, never truly awake. Each time awareness returned, new mouths fed from different cuts. The room spun endlessly, and my essence felt threadbare, pulled apart like a fraying rope. Sometimes, I could make out distant conversations, fragments of sentences.

“Sir, I just returned from Ilsthyre. You requested me?”

“Oh do tell, how is my dear brother? Still pouting over his newest title?” Valkan’s voice cut through the mist swimming in my head.

“He seems to be having a hard time.” The other man’s voice sounded pained, almost fearful.

“Of course he is. He’s always been dreadfully dim-witted. Always cowering at a simple conflict. Tell me, what’s the status of blood rot?”

“They’re uncontrollable. Lethal, and strong. But they do not discern between foe and friend, sir. It seems to be getting worse.”

For a split second, I could have sworn Valkan’s eyes settled on me.

“I have an idea, Frederick.” His voice was touched by a smirk. “A recent discovery. It’s made me rather curious.” Valkan’s hand slithered across my arm. “Bring me one of them. I wonder if they will respond differently to her.” He found my hand and dragged it up against his lips.

“You want to bring one of them here, sir?” the voice questioned, a slight tremor in his tone. “Into the city?”

“Did I not make myself clear? Why do you still stand before me? Go.”

“But–”

A scream shattered the quiet murmurs from the rest of the room. At first, I thought it might have been a figment of my imagination, but then there were more. They grew louder, more distinct. More victims in other rooms? No one would have volunteered for this if they knew what fate awaited them once Valkan's forces began their torture.

But it didn’t seem to be. Both Valkan and the other Damphyre had gone eerily silent, their heads snapped in the direction of the door.

“How did he—” A man's voice rang from beyond the chamber, followed by more screams.

A deep vibration began to pulse through the stone floor. The crystal chandelier above swayed. One of the windows cracked—a thin line appearing in the glass that spread like a spider's web.

The pressure in the room shifted suddenly, violently. My ears rang and crackled, like being dragged into ocean depths. The walls seemed to groan under some invisible weight.

A massive crack split the air—the sound of wood and stone protesting against an impossible force. The bedposts splintered, pieces of ornate carvings raining down around me.

The Damphyre scrambled through the room, but it was too late. Their bodies jerked upward as if yanked by invisible hooks, boots scraping desperately against marble as they were lifted into the air. For one terrible moment, they hung suspended—their milky eyes wide with genuine fear for the first time.

The pressure in the room became suffocating as the Damphyre's bodies hung in the air, so still, even as chaos erupted around them.

In an instant, their forms began to contort.

The sound of bones snapping filled the chamber as they compressed, folding inward like paper crushed by a giant fist. Blood erupted from every orifice as the pressure increased. Their screams cut off in wet gurgles before their forms imploded completely, reduced to unrecognizable masses that rained down onto the marble floor.

"Careful now." Valkan's voice cracked as his body was lifted from the ground. "My followers will tear this realm apart if anything happens to me."

"You seem to think I care." The voice that cut through the chaos was familiar but wrong—darker, deadlier than I'd ever heard it. Aether emerged from the shadows, and my heart nearly stopped. His perfect lip was sliced through, and purple bruises bloomed across his bare chest, weaving in and out of his void burns. His shadows writhed beneath his skin like living things. The very air around him seemed to bend and twist.

His fingers curled and Valkan's right arm snapped backward with a wet crack. Not just broken—shattered, the bone splintering in so many places it bulged beneath his skin.

A scream threatened to tear through my throat.

The air whipped, whistling through the cracked windows as Aether took another step forward. Above, the crystal chandelier swayed violently, its shadows dancing erratically across the walls.

"The realm needs what I offer," Valkan gasped through the pain, blood dripping from his lips. "It's the only path for survival."

Aether's fingers twisted again, and Valkan's left arm shattered. The sound was different this time—slower, more deliberate, like ice breaking across a frozen lake. Each crack echoed through the chamber as bone splintered into smaller and smaller pieces.

"Stop this while you still can, you idiot! You have no idea what awaits—" Valkan's voice was guttural, choking on blood as he croaked. But Aether simply cocked his head to the side and studied the Damphyre. Suddenly, Valkan's right leg twisted until bone pierced through flesh. His scream turned into a gurgle as Aether held him suspended in the air.

"I hope you have decent maids." Aether's voice dropped dangerously low as his eyes fell on the red-stained chamber.

"You're all going to die for this—" Valkan's growl was cut off in another scream as his left leg began to splinter, each break more excruciating than the last. The sound of grinding bone roared through my ears.

The temperature in the room plummeted as Aether stepped closer. "The thing about bone," he said, his tone unnervingly calm, "is how many pieces it can break into. Shall we count them? "

Another flick of his fingers and Valkan's ribs began to crack—one by one, methodically, each snap echoing through the chamber. The chandelier above shattered, crystal raining down around us but somehow avoiding my bed entirely.

"Is she worth another war?" Valkan's voice was just a hiss now, grunts of pain tearing through his words.

Aether simply lowered his chin as his fingers curled. Valkan's body snapped backward at an impossible angle, a piercing scream shattering through the room.

Valkan whipped his head to the left, blood trickling from his nose. His milky eyes found mine one last time. "You ungrateful cu?—"

The rest of his words disappeared in a violent explosion that sprayed across the entire chamber. The pressure released so suddenly my ears popped again, and I could hear my own ragged breathing in the sudden silence.

I watched Valkan's shredded remains slide down the ornate walls, leaving crimson streaks across gilded paper.

Footsteps approached the bed.

My heart seized as Aether's form neared me, blood drenching his flesh, dripping from his hair and down that structured face in rivulets until it met his marked chest. His golden eyes burned into a liquid bronze as his stare raked over me. I could nearly feel every open wound pulsing as his eyes fell upon them. As his face twisted in disgust.

I tried to shrink away as he reached for me, but my body still wouldn't respond. A whimper escaped my throat as I was finally able to dig my fingers into the linens. His hands froze mid-air, and something flickered across his face.

This wasn't the controlled soldier I knew. This was something else entirely—something that had just turned a dozen bodies inside out with a mere flick of his wrist. Not with shadows, but by pure will .

"Fia." His voice was softer now, though it trembled. He moved slower, each motion careful as he reached for me again. "I won't hurt you."

His arms slid beneath me. Even through my muted senses, I could have sworn energy thrummed through him, like a brewing storm was lifting me—carrying me through the thunder. He pulled me against his chest, and I caught the scent of rain beneath the metallic tang of blood.

"I'm taking you away from here."

The world dissolved into darkness as consciousness finally, mercifully slipped away.